


And the Hints of the Past

by penoftruthiness



Category: The Librarians (TV 2014)
Genre: (Vague mentions), Abuse, Ezekiel is dealing with all of this super well obviously, Foster Care, M/M, Pre-Slash, So you can read as friendship if you want but why would you
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-14
Updated: 2017-01-14
Packaged: 2018-09-17 10:16:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9319262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/penoftruthiness/pseuds/penoftruthiness
Summary: A request from an anon for "Ezekiel being teased as a kid and Jake teasing him as an adult and him being self conscious."Jake has been saying some things lately that are starting to get under Ezekiel's skin.





	

**Author's Note:**

> HUGE shoutout to [fangirlandtheories](http://archiveofourown.org/users/fangirlandtheories/pseuds/fangirlandtheories), who helped me out with brainstorming and is the reason I finished this in any sort of reasonable timeframe.

“God, Ezekiel, you _know_ no one understands you when you start talking Australian. It’s like he’s doing it on purpose.” Jake directed the second part of this statement towards Cassandra, who giggled and started saying something in response.

Ezekiel couldn’t focus on what she’s saying, though. His mind was already trying to recall another time someone else said the same exact thing to him.

_No one understands you!_

The voice in his head (and his past) is much, much crueler than Jake was. Ezekiel knows, intellectually, that Jake was kidding. Ezekiel is no stranger to sarcasm or joking around, after all, and he’s fairly sure that Jake doesn’t hate him at this point.

Fairly sure, but…

There’s a laugh in his head, loud, ringing, mocking. He can feel what it was like, back in…where was it? Was he still in California at that point, or had he made his way up the coast? He hadn’t been old enough to have gone East yet (since by the time he’d made it to Chicago, he’d been far past the point of caring what mean kids had to say).

It must have been California, then.

It was a noticeably warm day, the sun glinting off the poles and monkey bars. His hands gripped hot mulch as he cowered, trying to lay himself flat on the ground. If he could sink further into the dirt, maybe he could _get away._

It was stupid, looking back on it. Ezekiel had said something like “I need to throw this in the rubbish.” He was trying to make friends on the playground, probably. He had still been into that then.

One of his brand new classmates had barked out a laugh. He was a ringleader, well liked amongst the rest of the grade. This meant he got to decide which of the new kids were well liked, and which would get pushed down behind the slide, out of view of their teacher.

Now, two of his burlier friends were holding Ezekiel’s arms down as the leader came up with new words for Ezekiel to say.

“C’mon, then, say ‘two’.” The leader said, proudly displaying an angry grin.

Ezekiel tried to stay quiet, but one of the boys twisted his arm until he forced out a soft “two”, his tongue rolling over the end of the word.

“Twoer, _twoer_.” The leader dissolved into giggles. “God, you can’t even count right. Nobody understands you, you know that?”

The boy had been right of course; Ezekiel wouldn’t find people who would really understand him for years. Maybe he hadn’t even now. It wasn’t like he didn’t try, though.

For years, he’d stay up late at night, hiding under the bed sheets at his new house (where his new foster father wouldn’t hear him), practicing the words he’d heard differently that day. He’d sit in class; too busy repeating the teacher under his breath to really absorb whatever he was supposed to be learning. It didn’t matter anyway. Nobody would take him seriously with his _stupid_ accent, making it incredibly clear to everyone just what an idiot he was.

It wasn’t until he’d been with the Library, with his fellow Librarians, for over a year that he started loosening up a little. Dropping some innocuous phrases here and there. He knew no one else understood what he was saying (although he had a suspicion that Jenkins knew more than he was letting on), but it was something Ezekiel could do for himself. It felt like he was connecting with an old part of himself, something buried long ago and nearly forgotten.

 

Of course, none of that mattered if Jake hated it. Ezekiel started reigning in the Australian sayings he’d been popping out lately. He didn’t get any more comments, at least. Not about the accent.

 

-

 

Ezekiel had always been a little weird about food. He knew where it came from, obviously. It was hard to grow up with nothing. Never knowing if you’d have dinner that night or not, much less anything the next day. It was kind of crazy that he didn’t have more issues with food, to be honest.

He’d been born into a family that, as far as he knew, had never had enough. His father might have loved him, once upon a time. Ezekiel didn’t even remember his mom. He supposed that she gave up for the same reason he had. Maybe they even left the same way.

Maybe his father watched them both walk out with that haunted expression on his face.

After, he’d gotten by on whatever food he could find, which was never enough. Even in America, even after all the shit he’d went through to get there, he still couldn’t seem to fend for himself. So he was sent off to foster care, which was always a hit or miss. At some of the homes, he’d been able to eat whenever he wanted, but some…

Even now, every time he got hungry he thought of Ms. Forester’s face when he asked if he could get in the fridge. And then…well, he didn’t like feeling hungry.

Anyway, besides the constant stream of pizza, burgers, really anything he’s feeling like at the time (which the other Librarians can and do comment on), Ezekiel also had a secret. And he’d very much like to keep it that way. However, despite the fact that it was thirty whole minutes past ten o’clock, his fellow young Librarians were still in the kitchen. They had been in there for at least 45 minutes, since Ezekiel had started swinging by in 5-minute intervals to check.

Eventually, he got desperate enough that he figured maybe he’d be able to sneak past them. They’d probably be so enthralled in each other that they wouldn’t notice him.

“Ezekiel!” Cassandra called out brightly, proving the exasperated thief wrong. “What are you doing here?”

She and Jake were seated at the little table they’d finally put in the kitchen so that Flynn could eat cereal in the mornings without pacing through the Library and tripping down the stars. They were sharing a pint of ice cream, which sat in between them. They weren’t even using bowls, just two spoons, which were resting in the container.

Jake nodded at Ezekiel, then the free chair at the table. Feeling good about being invited but less good about being dragged into a conversation he’d wanted no part of, Ezekiel slowly pulled the chair out and sat down. He tried not to focus on the loud squeaking sound it makes, which sounded even louder in the now quiet Library.

“So, Ezekiel!” Cassandra sounded like she’d had her afternoon coffee late today. Maybe she and Jake had started this incredibly extended ice cream date with coffee. It was impossible to tell. “What are you doing awake at this hour?”

“Could ask you the same thing.” Ezekiel said, leaning back in his seat. He tried not to let his gaze drift towards the cupboard. There would be time later, and he didn’t want to deal with any awkward questions at the moment.

The two of them looked at each other with such _excited_ expressions that Ezekiel kind of wanted to vomit. It’s bad enough when they’re out in the field.

“We are making - ” Jake didn’t get to finish his statement before Cassandra was jumping in.

“A cake!” She nearly yelled, positively brimming with energy.

“O…kay?” Ezekiel didn’t really know how to react to baking excitement at almost eleven o’clock.

“Listen, you know how it’s Eve’s birthday next week?” Jake waited for Ezekiel’s nod before continuing. “So, Cassie and I have been planning out a party. Flynn’s helping, too, obviously, but we’re in charge of baking.”

The two of them looked at each other again, and honestly, Ezekiel couldn’t take much more of this, so he decided to hit the exit button as fast as he could.

“That sounds awesome, and I’m sure you guys will do awesome.” Ezekiel's voice sounded distressed, even to himself.

He was already sliding out of the chair and heading straight for the cupboard. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Cassie start saying something, then cut herself off. It occurred to Ezekiel that the other two might have wanted his help with baking.

Well, too bad. Maybe if they’d asked before they spent nearly an hour staring at each other in this kitchen without him.

Ezekiel shook off his bitter thoughts. He knew he was being mean, but he was always on edge this time of night. The box he was looking for is on the second shelf from the top, and Ezekiel managed to grab what he needed and close the door before either of his companions decided to say anything.

Jake eyed Ezekiel’s right hand and smirks. “Really, Jones? The three pieces of pizza you had at dinner weren’t enough? You need a granola bar, too?”

Ezekiel’s hand tightened around the bar automatically, and it squished a little between his fingers. Donning his light, carefree attitude, he responded. “You know me. Always hungry.”

“With the way you eat, it’s like you’ve never seen food before.”

 

_Like you’ve never seen food before._

And that one set off loads of memories, all over the map. His first foster family, worried at how fast he was eating. Ms. Forester telling him that _gluttony is a sin. You mustn’t eat more than the Lord gave you_. The kids at school, telling him to keep his eyes off their plates at lunch. His social worker at that McDonald’s, right after she finally realized what happened to him at the Forester’s. And then there was Daniel.

Overall, the home with Daniel had been one of his better ones. The family was relatively normal. Although, the mom was clearly dealing with not being able to have more kids. Poorly, if the way she got overly attached to the fosters that came through was any indication.

Ezekiel, though, had started gathering up supplies of food under his bed, in his pillow, and hidden all around his room. He had his own room here, and he wasn’t about to give up that advantage. There was a giant stash in his backpack, too, taking up more room than the few books he bothered to lug to school. This family had given him food every day he’d been there, but that’s how the Roberts family started, which only made it worse when they cut him off. Better to be prepared.

Of course, stupid Daniel lost his stupid video game and immediately jumped to the conclusion that Ezekiel stole it. Even though that was obviously false and Ezekiel had denied it every which way, Daniel still managed to convince his parents (his _biological_ parents, as he had reminded Ezekiel at school the very first day Ezekiel had moved in) to search the _foster_ kid’s room. Which means they found everything - perishable, non-perishable, and some stuff even Ezekiel forgot he’d hidden away.

Both their faces were pinched and sad as they tried to explain that “Oh, no, dear, you’ll always have as much food as you want”, a speech that Ezekiel did not really pay attention to. After all, even as they were talking to him, they were throwing every single thing he’d hidden over the weeks away.

 

Ezekiel shut his eyes tightly and tossed a probably fake-sounding “very funny, Stone” over his shoulder while he quickly withdrew to his room. He hated that he was still like this, all these years later. It would probably come back to haunt him one of these days.

He could even hear Cassandra telling Jake to “be nice, he can eat whatever he wants”, which only made him walk faster.

After getting back to his room, Ezekiel opened the drawer on his dresser closest to his bed and tossed the granola bar in with several others that he’d put in over the past week. The really silly thing about all of this was that he didn’t even always eat them. It was just a nightly ritual to remind him of what was different about his life now, what he could do now that he was at the Library.

The Library was magic and would always be able to provide at least the basic essentials to its Librarians. But some small part of Ezekiel was always still saying (especially late at night), “what if the magic stops tomorrow? What if the library starts dying again?” Which was still a ridiculous worry. He had money now. He _knew_ he could just go out and buy something, anywhere in the world. But even as Ezekiel tried to shut up the voices in his head with this sort of comforting thought, yet more potentially awful scenarios twisted it. What if his car broke down somewhere? What if he ran out of money? What if everywhere he went, everyone hated him and refused to give him anything?

Ezekiel rubbed his hand over his face again. Yep, leaving the bars as far away from the bed as the dresser was the best he could do right now. Maybe, if he continued getting better, he could trust leaving the food at least as far away as the kitchen.

Of course, with Jake’s comment, Ezekiel was reminded of how some things might always stay the same. He resolved to himself to start being more careful.

 

-

 

The clothes thing was where it all finally hit a breaking point. Ezekiel had been able to write off the other comments Jake had made, no matter how much it bothered him. He wasn’t about to say anything to the other man, and it wasn’t like the small barbs were affecting him that deeply. So he wasn’t going to react.

The clothes thing, though, was more of a problem than Ezekiel had anticipated. It started with the most innocuous comment, too.

 

They were all gathered in the annex, for once without an emergency to attend too. Off days happened in the Library, but they were fairly rare. Often the Librarians would pass free time doing individual research, or going on adventures using the magic backdoor (although Jenkins seemed to disapprove of this practice, he never said anything, so the rest of them just kept doing it). This time, they were trying to figure out plans as a group. Flynn had called it “group bonding time”, after which Jenkins immediately disappeared to some other part of the Library. Their quick search for him had resulted in no immortal curmudgeons, so they were forced to conclude that Jenkins did not want to go on a group bonding trip. The rest of them were getting similarly exasperated.

“Flynn, we spend most of our time at museums anyway! You can’t tell me you really want to go to another museum.” Ezekiel said. Looking at old stuff got boring when you couldn’t steal or sell any of it.

“At least make it an interesting museum, man.” Jake said, not having given up on his art museum idea.

“Are there such things as magic museums?” Cassandra wondered, mostly to the thin air. Nobody answered her question.

“Well, Jones, what would you like to do?” Flynn asked, cocking his eyebrow in a very punchable way.

His suggestions of arcade, laser tag, and cocktail bar all got shot down quickly (although Cassandra did seem very interested in the cocktail bar). Eve offered up an aeronautical museum, which might have actually been interesting, but Ezekiel was on the warpath against museums and had to commit or risk looking weak. Finally, Stone had an idea.

“What about a thrift store? I know, Baird, you’re not really that into shopping. But Jones is really great at flea stores. He can find the best deal on some cheap material.”

 

_Cheap. Cheap, cheap, cheap…_

Ezekiel should not have been offended by that. He knew that, obviously. It was very close to an actual, real life compliment, which was making some small part of him warm and happy.

But still, he couldn’t help but think about the years he spent at different schools. Lots of different schools across two continents – he couldn’t even remember the names of most of the kids who popped up in his memory, but there was always at least one who’d say something. Ezekiel didn’t have a lot of clothes even when he was still with his birth family, and after leaving he just lost more every day. He was still pissed about his favorite t-shirt, which had been a victim of a particularly heavy rainfall that left mud everywhere. The shirt had ended up caked with mud, and Ezekiel had no way of washing it.

Kids would always start noticing after a week. For the first week at a new school, Ezekiel could act normal, wear his best clothes (the ones with only a few holes in them), but after a week, he ran out of new things to wear. Either he’d pull out his old ratty stuff, or have to keep re-wearing the same things until they, too, became ratty and old. And that didn’t even cover what would happen at some of the placements that wouldn’t let him use a washing machine.

One of the first things he learned how to steal was quarters for Laundromats. Everything got a little better after that.

Ezekiel had always wanted the nice jackets and warm shoes that the other kids had, especially in the winter, when he’d notice the hole in the bottom of his shoe a little more than usual. So, when he finally grew up and got a real job (albeit one working at a magic library), he bought himself the best clothes money can buy. And maybe he and Stone had gone to thrift stores together several times, because Ezekiel knew his way around there. He knew which stuff was gently used and which would fall apart after a few washes.

Ezekiel swallowed down his objection to Jake’s comment and tried to laugh along with the rest of them.

The next comment was where things really blew up. Ezekiel had thrown on one of his favorite jackets this morning. He liked it because it was comfortable, and he had seen people staring at him when he wore it. He knew it looked good on him. However, Jake had immediately objected when Ezekiel walked into the Annex.

“Look, Jones, I know you got a reputation to live up to, but really? You couldn’t get yourself a nicer jacket than that? It’s nearly threadbare.”

Ezekiel frowned and threw some of his famous biting wit back at Jake (“It’s a _thin jacket,_ Stone, not that you would know fashion from the back of your hand”), but he knew the comment had hit deeper than Jake had probably intended.

So, when they later discovered what their newest mission would be, thanks to a shaking Clippings Book, Ezekiel refused to go back and change.

The next thing he knew, they were hiking the Rockies, looking for nothing else than a magical boulder. His life couldn’t get more interesting if it tried.

It started slowly. Jake and Cassandra pulled ahead of him to chat (which happened often enough to bother Ezekiel, but he wasn’t able to focus on that now). At first, it was only a foot or two, but then he ended up ten, twenty feet behind them. Every step felt like time was slowing, but only for him. His fellow Librarians walked further and further away from him, until he couldn’t even hear their conversations anymore. Did they disappear? Did they finally leave him?

 

The next thing he knew, Ezekiel was being shaken violently, with light pressure on his neck. It kind of tickled.

“What are you two trying to do?’ He heard his voice, but it sounded strangely distant and warbled.

“Ezekiel!” He heard Cassandra say from his side. The pressure on his neck was removed.

“Jones…Come on, Jones. Wake up, Ezekiel, please.” Jake’s voice came from somewhere in front of him. The shaking had stopped, but Ezekiel still felt pressure on his shoulders. “Ezekiel, we’ve got a blanket, ok? But then we gotta get moving. We need to get you warmed up.”

“Not cold.” Ezekiel replied. He felt perfectly comfortable, honestly. He couldn’t distinguish being particularly cold or hot right now, so why were they worried?

“Ezekiel, put this on, okay?” Cassandra’s voice came again. Something was placed around his shoulders, and Ezekiel immediately felt overheated.

“No, I…I’m fine, take it off.” His voice sounded a little stronger this time, less like it was lost in the mountains.

“You’re not, okay? Can you open your eyes?” Jake’s voice sounded closer than it was before.

Ezekiel struggled against his eyelids. They felt like lead, but finally he managed to pry them open. He saw Jake and Cassie, after she came into view, staring at him with worried expressions.

“You’ve been out in freezing temperatures for almost an hour with very little protection. This can lead to hypothermia if untreated.” Cassie said.

“I’m sorry we left you. We shouldn’t have done that.” Jake sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “If Cassie hadn’t asked you for your opinion about a joke she made, we might not have noticed you for a while yet.”

“It was probably bad.” Ezekiel said. He was starting to come back to his senses a bit. “Besides, my fault I was all the way back here. I was walking slow.”

“Yeah, because you were getting _hypothermia_ , Jones!” Jake said.

“Woulda been my fault. Don’t worry about it.” Ezekiel blinked a couple of times, slowly.

He saw Jake and Cassandra exchange a look, but Jake changed the topic. “Can you walk? We need to get you inside.”

Ezekiel nodded and stood up. The three of them slowly made their way back to the Library entrance.

 

After Ezekiel warmed up with a helpful cup of coffee made by Eve, Jake approached him. They were the only two left in the kitchen area, Ezekiel’s sarcastic comments driving off the rest of the worried Librarians.

“You scared us, you know.” Jake said, apparently intending to impersonate a dad from a Disney TV show.

Ezekiel waved him away. “Yeah, yeah. I’m fine though, aren’t I?”

Jake hesitated, then nodded slowly. “Yeah. But look, you’ve got to get a better jacket, ok?”

Ezekiel growled under his breath and set his coffee mug on the table with perhaps a little too much force. “I’m sorry my wardrobe doesn’t live up to your standards, Stone.”

He pushed himself up from the table, leaving the still warm coffee mug behind. Ezekiel stormed past twin worried glances from Eve and Cassandra and right out the Backdoor.

 

There were some really nice stores in downtown Portland. They were all overpriced, anyway. Ezekiel didn’t feel too bad taking a very expensive trench coat from one of them. Who would buy it anyway?

 

When he strolled back into the Library, acting for all the world as if he hadn’t just stormed out of there 30 minutes ago, everyone was waiting for him in the study. So, Ezekiel acted like he didn’t even see them and walked casually (but a little too briskly for the act) to his room.

He did see Cassandra and Jake exchange several facial expressions and gestures in Ezekiel’s direction, so he expected to see one of them soon.

It did surprise him that it was Jake, just a little bit. Often, Cassandra would have been the one to deal with Ezekiel when he was upset. So, that was the first odd thing. The second was that Jake started off with an apology.

“Ezekiel, I’m…I’m sorry. I think I messed up.” Jake said, not even trying to meet Ezekiel’s eyes. He was staring off somewhere behind Ezekiel’s head.

“If this is about the hypothermia thing, again, you can save it. I get it.”

“No, it’s not about that.” Jake’s eyes flicked down to the jacket that Ezekiel was still wearing. “Is that new?”

Ezekiel squinted at him. “Really? You’re picking now to care about fashion?” At Jake’s incredulous look, he continued. “Well, then. For your information, it is not. Fresh off the racks of one of the swankiest places in Portland, straight from under the noses of all those fancy ladies wearing ridiculous hats.”

Ezekiel didn’t add that there was only one lady wearing a fancy hat, and he had actually kind of liked it.

Jake’s eyes finally snapped to his. “You didn’t steal that, did you?”

Ezekiel crossed his arms and slouched to the side. “Really, Stone? You expect anything less from the great Ezekiel Jones?”

Jake rolled his eyes so far back into his head that Ezekiel was worried for a brief moment that they’d get lost back there. “You can’t just steal stuff, Jones! People are losing money on that.”

“Not rich people!” Ezekiel protested. Much more quietly, almost under his breath, he added: “You were the one who told me to get a new jacket anyway.”

Jake just stared at him for several moments. “I did what?”

Ezekiel stood up straight, now glaring. “You said to get a better jacket! I got one of the best, so you can leave with all your ‘get a nicer, more expensive coat, Ezekiel’ crap.”

Jake’s eyes lit up with recognition. “Oh, shit…I didn’t mean that. All your jackets, all your clothes, really, they all look good.” A faint blush crept on his cheek, and Ezekiel idly realized that he hadn’t meant to say that. “I didn’t mean you needed to get a more pricey jacket or something. I mean, have you seen what I’m wearing?”

Ezekiel glances down at Jake’s outfit, realizing that the other man isn’t looking too bad himself. The simple brown jacket over a plaid shirt suited him.

“I just wanted you to be warm, Ezekiel. That’s all.”

“Oh.” Ezekiel said. There was nothing else he could think of to say.

Jake looked back at him, again meeting his eyes. “Listen, do you want to go to that clothing swap place you like? That jacket is nice and all and you look good - ” Jake’ face reddened again. He stumbled over the next few words. “ – great in it. But I think we could find something that’s more your style.”

 

They did find another jacket, but Ezekiel wasn’t sure if the warmth he felt walking out of the store was entirely from his new coat.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Come talk to me on [tumblr](http://conversationslikeminefields.tumblr.com/).


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